The Secret Life Of Mrs Hunt
by lucy marie ward
Summary: The long suffering Mrs Hunt struggles to find happiness in a world she doesn't care for, married to a man who can't giver her what she desperately needs, when everything changes at a party, what ensues is the pursuit of a passionate and dangerous affair that will rock the Hunt's world.
1. prolouge

prologue:

**The harsh rain hammered relentlessly against the glass of the cold window. Another night alone with the rain and a bottle, nights like these seemed so familiar by this point. It had been 10 long years of misery and unaffectionate exchanges. And drinking, so much drinking, these days it took very little to drive her to the bottle for escape from her desperate existence. She cursed herself over and over on nights like these, what had she expected? She was married to "The Manc Lion" it wasn't as if she was ever going to receive anything even approaching sensitivity, or love, as she had learned first hand to her detriment. In truth, Gene was married to his job anyway. It wasn't as if she hadn't tried to make an effort, she'd attended several of his "work do's" all of which seemed to end in disaster and embarrassment, with Gene punching some poor sod in the face or getting so drunk he passed out on top of someone. But last night, last night was different. She had found herself alone, as was typical, whilst gene sauntered off to get completely annihilated and characteristically rough with someone who by all accounts probably didn't deserve it. She had been gazing sullenly into her half empty wine glass when she'd felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned around coming face to face with a man who resembled a pencil, everything about him was thin and wooden, the way he stood, his moustache, his dreadful hair. He clearly worked with the police, though she suspected, not with her husband, non of his lackeys would dare be so bold as to make a move on her, she figured he must have been from one of the other branches of the station, maybe the drug's squad, he had the distinct look of someone who spent a lot of time around narcotics. He spoke with a sightly posh sounding Mancunian accent, a feat which would have been impressive were he not such an instantly detestable man. And then came the flirting, it wasn't even subtle, She had felt more than uncomfortable with the unwanted advances of pencil-man, her eyes darted around the room, searching frantically for an excuse to escape when her eyes met another. It was like the world slammed to a halt, like the lights had finally thundered on. Deep green eyes, sad eyes, but there was life there, waiting to be set free, and then the face on which they sat spun into focus. Mrs Hunt's breathing quickened as she took in the sight of the most beautiful creature she'd ever laid eyes on. Then there was the the sound and motion of a clenched fist slamming into the face of pencil-man She hadn't even needed to question what had just occurred, she already knew. It was Gene, throwing his not inconsiderable weight in pencil-man's direction. A slew of profanities poured from Gene's mouth as he was dragged to his feet and propelled towards the exit. That was the last thing she remembered of that night, but her thoughts kept being drawn back to those eyes, those perfect eyes, that seemed to grasp at her very being and had pulled her in so deeply. Truly there was nothing else she could think of. For the first time she didn't care that she was coming second to "The Job" she didn't care that her husband was away, she didn't even care that she had reached the end of the bottle. All she cared about was finding those eyes, it was like a compulsion, a desperate need she could feel burning away inside, she could feel it in her bones, she had to do it, she had to. She had to find the girl with the green eyes.**


	2. Chapter 1

The door thundered open and the hulking form of Gene Hunt collapsed into the room, falling head first over the back of the sofa, landing face first in a pile of cushions. It wasn't as if there were any doubt as to where he had been or what he had been doing, it was business as usual in Gene's world. Every night after work he found his way to pub, night after night of boozing was apparently preferable to spending it with his wife. And that suited her just fine, his abrupt, overbearing, manlier than thou attitude wore thin quite fast, if it hadn't have been for the pressures imposed by her mother she would have left Gene years ago. It was strange but she couldn't remember a time when she and Gene weren't married. It wasn't like the years of misery and coldness had made her forget, it was as if there really had been nothing before that. Sometimes she found herself feeling somewhat uneasy about that, she usually shrugged it off as being ridiculous, but more and more recently it had been playing on her mind. It wasn't as if she could mention it to anyone, they'd think she was flat out of her tree, and who wouldn't assume she was off her rocker for making such a ludicrous claim. It was as though she had always been "Mrs Heather Hunt," and it felt like she was doomed to remain that way forever. It wasn't as if she didn't care for Gene at all, it was just that she'd never, as far back as she could remember, felt anything approaching love for the lumbering oaf. And here they were, their nightly routine was set to be resumed as the drunken Gene made several attempts to right himself, resulting in him rolling onto the floor before clambering back onto the sofa with marked difficulty. He could see the mix of slight disgust and vague amusement on his wife's face, "Whash tha mather?" He slurred gruffly.

"oh, nothing, nothing at all, just you make sure you don't throw up over my nice clean carpet eh?"

"pish off," he replied, the drink still getting the better of him.

"oh charming, still i'd expect nothing more from my oh so loving husband," she mocked.

"Love ish for poofs, and Gene Hunt ish no poof."

"Oh no Gene, no one would accuse you of that, you are however a raging alcoholic with a filthy mouth and a rotten temper, and unfortunately, my husband."

"Don't you get all high an mighty with me!," barked Gene angrily, "you're the one havin the bloody affhair"

"AFFAIR, and i'm not having an affair you bloody fool, who'd have me, they'd all be shitting themselves for fear of you blundering in"

Genes face descended into a look of total bemusement, as though words made no sense to him, it was several moments before he responded.  
"if your not havin an affair, then where are you shneakin off to at nigsht"

"~I'm surprised you even noticed i'm gone!, you've got your secrets Gene and i've got mine, and i've no desire to hear yours so i'd appreciate it if you kept your nose out of mine, but I assure you, since you;re supposedly so worried, I am NOT having an affair!"

With that Heather stormed out of the room, leaving Gene to his drunken stupor. She had other matters to attend to, she had to get ready, and she wanted to look nice. She crept up the stairs to the bathroom, her thoughts did not dwell on the tired argument she had had downstairs but instead her thoughts raced thinking about where she was going, and where she had been going for the past month, it was her little secret, no one else need know, it was hers and she liked it just fine that way.

When at last she was ready heather descended the stairs, and made her way to the front door, glancing into the lounge on her way passed to see Gene's bulk cast over the small table a mug of coffee had been spilt onto the floor, along with contents of Gene's stomach, which no doubt she'd have to clean up, no matter, she'd deal with that later, she had somewhere more important to be right now. She slide her fingers up and round the ring of Gene's car keys and unhooked them from where they hung by the door, her secret driving lessons were to come in handy tonight, she opened the door and stepped out into the cold night and stepped briskly towards her husband's pride and joy, his car. She slipped confidently into the drivers seat and slipped the keys in, starting the engine in one swift movement. And she drove, though all of her lessons had been conducted in secret she was already a far superior driver to her husband as the car sailed smoothly a long the dark roads, illuminated only by the murky street lamps, but the lack of light did not pose an issue to Heather, she knew where she was going, she knew the route well by now, she turned the corner and exhaled loudly. She could see it now, The white walls of her destination, the thing that had kept her going all day, the house was so familiar to her now, she was amazed she'd even been able to find it in the first place, but once she had she'd memorized the route and she'd been every night for the past month without fail. She parked the car on the side of the road and stepped out into the dark.


End file.
